


Until the Sun Comes Up

by Nova_Raven



Series: Dead and Gone Verse [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: F/M, Friendship, M/M, Tea, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_Raven/pseuds/Nova_Raven
Summary: Sam and Devyn have some late night conversations about the state of things...
Relationships: Colby Brock/Sam Golbach, Devyn Lundy/Corey Scherer
Series: Dead and Gone Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565569
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Until the Sun Comes Up

Colby doesn’t fight him anymore. Not that he ever did, really. Sam should be grateful for that. Grateful that he doesn’t have to hold his best friend… the guy who had been his best friend, down as he fucks him. 

It still kinda fucks with Sam that this is what they’re doing, that this is Colby he’s thrusting in and out of, fucking until they’re both raw and panting. Sam’s seen blood on his cock before. He knows that means he’s hurting Colby, ripping his insides… 

But he’s never really sure if he really cares or not. 

This was the same guy who had held him down, begging and screaming, as Corey put a bullet into Kat… 

_“You can’t! We can still save her! Please, Colby, Elton, please! I’m begging you, please don’t do this!”_

His voice was raw for days afterwards. Not that he really spoke to any of them to find out. He didn’t even eat the first couple of days, because the hunger pains in his stomach hurt less than the pain of loss in his chest. But maybe it could begin to drown it out. 

Maybe. 

Devyn finally catches him the one night when he had finally accepted that dying of hunger would be a piss poor way to go in this zombie apocalypse. She’s down in the kitchen, nursing a cup of apocalypse tea to candlelight. It was just boiled water. While the gas stove was still working and they still had hot water. 

Because sometimes the warmth of the water was enough to drown out the icy chill in their chests. 

_“Hey Sam,” She says quietly, waving at him with a floppy, oversized hoodie sleeve. Corey’s he’s sure._

_Sam finds out later that this is the night that Corey told Devyn he’d been bit, finds out later that this is the night that Devyn realizes that she can either watch Corey deteriorate until he was no better than the monsters they hid from in the trap house, or put him out of his misery before…_

_Before he loses the ability to choose._

_“Hey,” He responds, voice raspy and stale, because she’s the first person he’s talked to since… since he begged for Kat’s life._

_“Sam, I…” He can sense it. The things she wants to say. The apology on her lips. But the words never escape. Because what good do they do? What difference do they make? “Good to see you,” She says instead, staring into her cup._

_He wants to haul off on her, scream at her, demand to know where the fuck she gets off, saying shit like that when_ Kat _is_ dead _, when the world has ended, when pretty much everything that he’s ever known and loved is dead and gone and how could she possible know how he feels…?_

_He’s so glad now that he just kept his fucking mouth shut. Because she knew very well how he felt. Would know how he felt even better in a few days time, when Corey finally told everyone and Elton helped him put a gun to his head._

_But for now he doesn’t know any of that. All he knows is that Devyn looks small and fragile sitting there, and she’s always been like a little sister to him, so he keeps his mouth shut on all of the awful things he could say, simply nodding and saying, “Good to see you too.”_

_She gestures at another cup she’s got sitting next to her. “Tea?” She asks, “It’s just hot water right now, well, it might be warm now, but uh… I think I have one more tea bag somewhere…”_

_But Sam shakes his head, because he knows that that’s her last tea bag, the one she’s saving for some unknown emergency later on down the line._

_The same tea bag that Sam smells on the night Corey dies…_

_“Just apocalypse tea is fine,” He says quietly, not even knowing why he’s gonna sit downstairs with her at the table at four o’clock in the morning because he had just come down for food but… and he’ll never admit it but… he’s missed people._

_“Okay,” Devyn doesn’t even fight him on it, just taking a quiet sip of her tea._

_He sits down awkwardly, his joints creaking unnaturally from the days of inactivity and malnutrition. He takes a sip of the offered tea. It is mostly lukewarm now, but if Sam thinks hard enough about it, he can almost picture that there’s some sort of flavor to it._

_They sit in silence for a while, until the water is gone and Sam’s stomach, awakened by the water, is sending sharp pains of hunger through his abdomen._

_It still hurts less than the tearing, ripping pain in his heart._

_“We’ve been worried about you,” Devyn finally says quietly._

_“Oh?” And if it were anyone else, there probably would have been something sardonic at the end of that, but it’s Devyn. And she’s always brought out the best in people. Well, anything left of the best that Sam had to give._

_“Yeah…” She fiddles with the cup. “Everyone’s been pretty fucked up since…” She doesn’t need to say it._

_Sam huffs a sarcastic laugh and stares into his cup. He doesn’t speak._

_“Colby… Colby’s been really worried…” Devyn says quietly, and Sam’s immediately gripped by massively conflicting emotions. Because there’s a part of him, a strong part, that immediately wants to reach out to Colby, comfort his… his friend… but there’s an even larger part, a part that had grown and festered during the apocalypse, metastasized after Kat’s death, that screams, and yells, and demands to know what the fuck business Colby has being worried about him when he’s the very reason that Sam’s…_

_But it’s Devyn, and Sam won’t scream at Devyn._

_It would be wrong._

_“Oh…” And he knows Devyn doesn’t miss the darkness in his tone._

_She’s staring into her cup, and Sam’s a little alarmed to see the tears that have started in her eyes._

Shit _… he never meant to make her cry. “Devyn…”_

_“Do you think she was still in there?” Devyn asks, and it makes so much more sense in retrospect, knowing what he does now, why Devyn would ask such a fucked up question. “Do you think she knew it was us?”_

_But Sam doesn’t know about Corey right now. And he feels anger and hurt rise up in his chest, pulsing hard against the icy walls that have grown in his rib cage. “Why the fuck would you say that?” He growls, and he could cry, or he could get angry, and right now anger is easier than pain…_

_“I’m sorry,” Devyn whispers in a sob, “I just… I can’t imagine she would have wanted to stay like that, known she could hurt us, hurt you… so like…” She shrinks into her chair. “It makes it a little easier to think she might have still been there.” And the tears have been let loose from her eyes, and she’s gripping the mug like some sort of comfort item but her hands are shaking so badly that it doesn’t seem to be working._

_Sam looks away, gritting his teeth against the conversation. Because he doesn’t want to think about that. Because he knows Kat would have been absolutely heartbroken if she had bitten any of them, if she had hurt_ him _… “Devyn…” He says, and its not his fault the tone comes out low and threatening._

_Devyn reacts like she’s been struck. “I’m sorry…” She whispered, “I’m sorry, I just…” And she stands up, pushing her chair back suddenly. “I’m gonna…”_

_“Devyn,” Sam says, and he tries to take the threat out of his voice because now he feels like the asshole. “I…” But he can’t apologize. Even though he probably should. “Goodnight,” He says instead._

_Devyn nods shakily, wiping the tears from her face. “Goodnight,” She says quietly, and she’s walking quickly from the kitchen._

And then Sam finds out that Corey’s been bitten and the whole conversation makes so much more sense. 

And Sam’s always been a bit of a control freak, even before the world ended, needing things to be neat and tidy and organized. It’s really no surprise that comes out later when he’s fallen into Colby’s bed, desperate to feel something that isn’t pain. 

He knows he’s taking this from Colby, knows that this is something that he never would have consented to if they were both in their right minds, if the world hadn’t ended, if Kat hadn’t been bitten and killed and Corey hadn’t been bitten and killed and Sam hadn’t killed the last little bit of him that tried to _care_ … 

Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to hurt Colby, because in his mind, he’s making it even, projecting some of the pain he’s feeling in his chest _every day_ onto Colby, marking him, bruising him, and he can see it when he watches Colby walk the next morning, the soreness and pain that Sam’s left behind. 

And it’s fine. Sam might enjoy the black and blue marks on his friend just a little too much, might enjoy the fact that Colby doesn’t fight him on it, just takes the pain like he’s too afraid to say no…

And then… and then Colby starts doing shit he can’t control. 

He starts leaving the house and going on supply runs alone. Where before he would go with Elton at least now he’s just leaving the house for hours at a time, sometimes returning with nothing, sometimes with gear, every time with the same… disappointment. Like he didn’t find something that he was looking for out there. 

And Sam hates it, hates that he can’t control where Colby goes all the time, can’t keep him from leaving the house and doing stupid shit as well as he can hold him down and fuck him… bite into his skin and mark him, take out his frustation at the stupid, stupid shit that Colby is doing.

Because Colby is going to get himself killed. Or bitten, and that’s as good as killed. Worse really. 

But he won’t admit that to Colby. So he just fucks him, fucks him hard and rough until he’s sobbing silently into the pillow, covers him in bite marks and bruises that take weeks to heal, takes something from Colby’s body that he can’t get anywhere else. 

Not anymore. 

And he almost feels bad, almost, because he knows that there’s no way Colby will ever stop him, even if he doesn’t like it, because he’s afraid that Sam will never come back. 

Sam’s not sure he’s wrong.

He worries about Colby, hates that he can’t control him in real life as easily as he can in the bedroom… 

He loves him. Or something like that.

He’s not sure what he’d become if he lost Colby. And maybe he’s trying to convince Colby that Sam’s not worth it, not worth suffering for, but…

He’s not sure he wants Colby to believe him. Because maybe he hates Colby, maybe he loves him, but there’s one thing he does know. 

Colby’s his last anchor in a world gone topsy turvy. If he loses Colby… Sam’s not sure he wouldn’t lose himself in the process. 

Devyn finds him in the kitchen late at night one night, maybe early in the morning. It was that strange limbo where it was too late to be considered night, but too early for the morning. He’s nursing a new cup of apocalypse tea, except that it’s not even hot anymore. It just water in a tea mug that they’ll pretend brings them some comfort. Its after he’s tried to convince Colby to try a little harder not to die.

Sam gets an eerie feeling of deja vu. “Hey,” He says.

“Hey,” She murmurs, going into the pantry and pulling out a gallon of water. She pours it into her mug in near silence, before joining him at the table.

They sip their tea in silence, and Sam absently notices a car alarm going off somewhere. Huh… had been a while since he’d heard one of those… 

“How are you and Colby doing?” She asks finally. 

Sam notes that he’s not terribly surprised at the knowledge in her voice, the knowledge that she knows what he and Colby have been doing behind closed doors. 

But then, the bite marks and bruises he left _all over_ Colby weren’t exactly subtle either. He can’t even call them hickies. Hickies would imply something loving or playful. There’s nothing playful about the black and blue contusions he leaves on Colby’s body. 

“I hate that I can’t control him,” Sam says, and he didn’t mean to be that honest, realizes how bad that sounds, but Devyn just nods, taking a sip from her mug. 

“I get that…” She says, staring into space, “I used to get that way with Corey.”

And Sam’s heart skips a beat because this is the first time she’s brought up Corey since… He keeps his mouth shut, waiting to see what she’ll say. 

“I hated when he and Colby would leave the house, go into dangerous situations, because I was always so afraid,” She smiles wryly, “I always knew it would get him killed.” She looks down sadly, “I was right in the end…” 

“I don’t know what I’d do if he died,” Sam says honestly, “I really like… if he died, if I had to…” He swallows hard at the thought. “I’d kill myself. Maybe not literally but…” 

Devyn nods, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “I uh… I know what you mean,” She admits quietly. And Sam nods, because she’s probably the only person who really does, having lost both her significant other and her best friend, Kat, to the apocalypse. “I feel dead, sometimes,” She says, “Like, I’m not really here, I’m just going through the motions.” She frowns, “Makes me wonder if I’m any better than the people out there…” She jerks her thumb to generally indicate the state of the world _out there_ … 

“He uh…” And Sam doesn’t have to say that they’re talking about Colby, “He makes me remember how to feel human, sometimes. When we’re together… like that,” And its a weird thing to admit, that fucking the guy who had always been his best friend until he cried and came all over himself, is the only thing that makes him feel human. Because maybe it should be the opposite, that treating Colby like that should make him feel more like a monster.

But it doesn’t. 

Devyn nods, accepting his words. “He knows you care about him,” She says, surprising Sam. 

Sam snorts out a dark laugh. “Yeah, because everyone shows their love by fucking someone until they bleed.” 

It was meant to be shocking, but Devyn barely reacts. There’s a moment of quiet before she says, “You don’t always fuck him like that.” 

And Sam can’t really bring himself to be surprised that she knows that. He doesn’t really care, he realizes. Had stopped giving a shit about a lot of privacy related things after the apocalypse started. Couldn’t really complain when everyone saw Colby naked every time he left the house. “Did he talk to you?” He asks, more curious than anything. 

But Devyn shakes her head. “I can hear you guys, most nights,” She admits, “I’ve started watching how he walks and carries himself the next day.” She takes a sip from her mug, “So I can kinda tell when you’ve been rough with him.” 

Sam feels a little defensive, a feeling he forces down because there was no judgement in her tone. Just a quiet admission of facts. “Oh…” Is all he says.

Devyn shrugs. “And you know what he does on the days after you’re rough?” She asks.

Sam shakes his head, because he doesn’t know, but he desperately wants to now.

She taps her nails on the table. “He tries harder to be there for you,” She says, “He’s around you more, he offers to help you more… he’ll stay home for a few days.” Sam blinks, because he’s never noticed that pattern. Never noticed how Colby’s behavior was altered after Sam _hurt_ him… 

“I don’t deserve him,” Sam says, feeling it in his chest. Because Colby was so good, too good, and didn’t deserve all the shit that Sam was putting him through. 

Devyn shrugs. “Maybe,” She says, “But that’s not super important.” Sam sends her a quizzical look. “He thinks he deserves you,” She explains. “So like…” She sighs, “Don’t take him for granted. Because like… these days? I never know how much time I have left with people. And I’d rather be up front about stuff, you know?” 

Sam nods. He does know. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “When did you get all all-knowing?” He asks.

Devyn shrugs sadly. “When I looked up and suddenly all the most important people in my life were gone.” And Sam could apologize here, but both he and Devyn know it would mean nothing. It doesn’t change anything. So they sit there, holding their mugs of apocalypse tea, not saying anything more, until the sun comes up.

It always does...

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to work on the next chapter for Unexpected... and then I sat down and this happened. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Lemme know what you think.


End file.
